


You Are (My) Home

by SecureShell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg, Possessive Sam Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 14:15:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecureShell/pseuds/SecureShell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam can't help but feel threatened by Dean and Cas' relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are (My) Home

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd.

_You're being irrational_ , Sam scolded himself for the thousandth time in the past ten minutes.  _Dean is yours, you are his and that's the way it's always been...that's the way it always will be._   He smiled to himself when the thought brought up memories of when he and Dean had committed themselves to each other.  Dean had been so pale, so nervous that Sam had feared that he was gonna pass out before they'd had a chance to make anything official.  He'd mumbled and stuttered his way through alittle speech about being a better man for Sam that, for some reason, had brought forth an image of Jack Nicholson in Sam’s mind (huh, so he knows more than one...). 

Then he'd removed the ring that he'd worn for as long as Sam could remember (with some effort, Sam had never seen hands that clammy before) and offered it to him with a face looking so scared and vulnerable, Sam had just wanted to gather him up in his arms and soothe him, assure him that he was not going anywhere.  And he had.

But now, the smile slid off his face as he gazed at Cas and Dean.  Sam was inside the bunker, cold weather had never been his thing and there was currently a steady flow of snow falling outside.  So naturally, Dean hadn't put up much of a fight when Sam had refused to go outside with him and Cas to clear the Bunker's driveway, though Sam really knew that Dean had just wanted a reason to go frolic in the snow.

During the few times that he would allow Dean to 'trick' him into going outside with him, Dean would push him down into the blanket of snow, then climb atop and straddle him, making a point to pull of Sam's beanie and shove wet, icy fingers through Sam's hair, making him shiver.

"You are such a child."  Sam would murmur, reaching up to caress Dean's cheek, rosy from the cold.  Sam always too great pleasure in watching his badass older brother giggle like a damn teenage girl while opening his mouth wide to catch the frosty flakes on his tongue.

But today, Sam had the adverse opportunity to watch Dean and Cas make the best of the chilly weather, as Dean tried to teach Cas the importance of snow-ball fights.  Now, Sam wasn't usually very jealous.  Frankly, that was more Dean's thing, what with his stormy gazes and growly voice when another person's interests, girl or boy, so much as breezed in Sam's direction.  And it was not like there was much to be jealous about anyway.  Dean and Cas weren't even touching and seldom did, with Dean always squirming away at any extended contact when it wasn't Sam.  Outside, Dean was very slowly and elaborately squishing some snow together between his gloved hands (he hadn't wanted to wear them, but Sam hadn’t been taking no for an answer) and looked to be explaining something  judging by the very serious look on his flushed face.  Cas on the other hand, was just standing there, hands limp at his sides and his head cocked in that admittedly adorable way, like he always did when he just couldn’t comprehend a human's actions.  And that human was usually Dean.

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his lengthy hair before sitting down on the bed because that was Sam's _point_.  There didn't even need to be any kind of physical contact between Dean and Cas in order to deduce that there was a connection between them.  It was in everything they did, whether they realised it or not, and Sam was willing to bet not.  It was in the way Dean's eye would twinkle with mirth whenever Cas would do or say something that portrayed his naivety, in the way Dean would fondly clap his shoulder and let his arm linger there.  It was in the slight inflection of Dean's voice whenever he would ask if Cas was okay and the way he would throw himself at Cas and hold on tight whenever the answer was no.  But mostly, it was in way that Cas looked at Dean every single hour of every single day, and this got to him the most because the way Cas looked at Dean was the same way that Dean looked at Sam; with unconditional, unbridled, _unlimited_ love.

"Sammy?"

Sam jerked his head out of his hands and looked up to see Dean was standing at the door of their room, swathed in jackets (both his and Sam's 'cause Sam was just that insistent) and his brow creased with concern.

"You okay?" he asked, hurrying towards Sam and, with some effort, kneeling in the space between his legs.  When Sam didn’t answer immediately, Dean brought the fingers of one hand to his lips and pulled the thick glove of with his teeth.  "Sammy?" he prodded, curling his cold and slightly damp fingers around Sam's neck. 

Dean's scared, Sam realized sadly, scared that Sam was somehow still suffering from the effects of the trials.  Dean was barely breathing and his hand was trembling on Sam's warm skin, though from fear or cold, Sam could not tell.

Slowly, Sam reached down and took Dean's still gloved hand and mimicked Dean's actions, bringing it up and pulling the wet glove off with his teeth.  He then rubbed Dean's clammy hand between his larger ones, trying to persuade his heat to seep into Dean's skin.

"I'm fine, Dean." he said sincerely, before pressing his lips into the back of Dean's palm.  Dean sighed and his shoulders relaxed visibly, even from beneath his vast layers. He kneeled up and pulled Sam down with his other hand, pushing his face into the sensitive skin of the crook of Sam's neck.  He did this often, and Sam found it incredibly crucial to allow him.  It was almost like Dean was reassuring himself that Sam was alive and breathing by pressing his push lips into Sam's faint pulse.  Sam smiled and stroked the hairs at the back of Dean's neck while Dean kissed and nuzzled his neck.

When he was satisfied, Dean sat back on his haunches and looked up at Sam with a confused expression.  "Then what gives, dude?"

At that Sam let go of Dean's hand and extracted himself from his brother's slack embrace. He got up and made his way to their huge oak wardrobe, which, try as he might, can simply not be kept tidy thanks to Dean and his apparent affinity against folding clothes. He could feel his face warm up with embarrassment even though he had his back turned towards his brother.  He made rather a spectacle of rummaging in the wardrobe for dry clothes for Dean, and asked in what he hoped was a nonchalant enough voice, "What d'you mean?"

"I _meeaan_ that you've been a little off lately Sammy, and" Dean brought his hands down to caress his midriff tenderly, "this supposed to be the happiest time of our lives.  If you've changed your mind-"

Sam immediately abandoned his search for clothing and rushed towards Dean, dropping to his knees in front of him. He let his hands cover Dean’s over his stomach, both of them reveling in the feel of Dean's baby bump.  It was already quite a considerable size considering that Dean was only five months along.  And warm.  So warm that Sam could almost always feel its heat whenever he was not touching it.

"Sam please, just- just be honest with me."

Dean sounded like he was close to tears and when Sam looked up from their entwined fingers, his eyes were shining with sadness.  The rosiness in his cheeks was back now, though Sam knew it was from emotion rather than temperature.

When Sam continued to say nothing, Dean growled in frustration, which created an interesting juxtaposition against his sweet, pleasantly plumper features.  "Dude, I

swear, if you don't explain yourself in the next thirty seconds, I'm gonna-"

Sam didn't let Dean get any further.  Instead, he leaned forward, forcing Dean to lean backwards towards the floor.  Before his head could hit the floor though, Sam blindly reached for one of the million scatter cushions that they had on their bed (for some reason, Dean insisted on sleeping with them, no matter how many times. Sam explained that they're supposed to be decorative), and placed it down just in time.  Then Sam went ahead and did the very thing that he had been craving to do ever since Dean left his side that morning; he placed his elbows on either side of Dean's head, and swooped down to take his lush, startled mouth in a powerful, hungry kiss.  Dean responded immediately, moaning softly and opening his mouth and his legs to allow Sam more room.  The way Dean was always so ready to give himself to Sam.  And right then, the way he allowed Sam to open him up and take whatever he needed from him had Sam hard in his sweats and grinding down into Dean within seconds.

_Now is not the time_ , he berated himself harshly before he could get carried away.  Before he could trail his mouth down to Dean's neck, reinforce the marks he had left there just the previous night, before slipping his hand down into Dean's maternal jeans and thermal pants, seeking out that place where he'd fucked his child into Dean five months ago...

"Fuck..." breathed Sam as he finally, finally pulled their mouths apart.  His erection was throbbing painfully, and since his pants were so unrestrictive (and the fact that he wasn't wearing any underwear), it tented long and thick against the material. "Fuck Dean..."

Dean wasn't fairing any better, judging by the way he kept trying to spread his thighs wider and humping his hips up towards Sam's. It was always like this with Dean; Sam never had to do much to turn him on.  A few dirty phrases here or a single predatory look there was almost always enough to get him moaning and spreading.  "Sam, Sam, Sammy..." he whimpered now as he desperately tried to pull off the thousands of layers currently covering his torso.  Sam helped him and together, they managed to have Dean half-naked and writhing against the thankfully thickly carpeted floor in under a minute.

When Dean's swollen belly was revealed though, the heat that he had been feeling was washed out by an overwhelming sense of pure adoration, of raw love.  He dived down to place tender kisses on the hot, stretched skin and could almost feel the phantom touch of their child against his lips.  This was it.  This was Sam and Dean, everything they were and more.  This little organism, which was probably no larger than a banana, was the physical manifestation of their love.  The baby wasn't even born yet, still being grown and nurtured and protected inside Dean's body, and it had already changed their lives in the most profound of ways.  Suddenly, all of Sam's worries seemed incredibly irrelevant.  Nothing else mattered, not then. Not when Dean was soft and sweet with pregnancy.  Dean didn't need the added responsibility of soothing the jagged edges of Sam's insecurities.  No, Dean's job was to enjoy this special time in his life.  The only thing he should be responsible for was to be happy and healthy so that their baby would be happy and healthy, which meant that Sam had to be as well, because Dean's state of mind was directly proportional to Sam's well-being. 

Sam trailed his fingers down Dean's body, starting at his puffy, bitten lips, past his damp, sensitive neck and down to his heaving chest.  His hand paused for a moment at his distended belly before moving up, towards Dean's heart.  His own heart fluttered happily when he felt the steady, strong beat of it. Dean wasn't grinding up to him anymore though Sam could still feel his arousal against his body.  Dean's eyes were fixed on him, green and half-lidded.  He seemed to be waiting for Sam to do something, which was odd because whenever things stalled, Dean tended to take charge.

"I love you, Dean." Sam whispered earnestly. "I love you, I love our child and I love our life together, no matter how crappy things get. _Because_ we're together."

Dean seemed quite surprised by the spontaneous confession, probably because while Sam really didn't mind verbally expressing his love for Dean, he knew that Dean thought of himself as unworthy of Sam's love and therefore became extremely uncomfortable at any mention of it. 

He seemed even more surprised and perhaps a little startled when Sam inched his face towards Dean's slowly, until their lips met again.  This kiss was far gentler but Dean responded to it no differently.

When lack of breath pulled them apart, Sam rested his forehead against Dean's and spoke against his lips.  "Dean, I don't think you understand how much I.....You and this baby are my fucking life.  I am _never_ going to leave you.  Please Dean, I _need_ you to understand that."

"Okay.  Okay Sammy, I get it." Dean assured hurriedly, though Sam knew that _that_ particular fear of Dean’s, would gnaw at him until the end of days.  With his arousal temporarily forgotten because of Sam's desperate plea, Dean brought his hand up to mirror his brother's by reaching up under Sam's Henley and placing it over his heart.  "Sam and Dean forever, right?" he whispered, leaning up for another kiss.

"Always." Sam agreed before pushing his tongue into Dean's mouth.


End file.
